


Blodørn's Rising

by WarriorOmen



Series: Blodørn [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, Fluff, History, M/M, Violence, dub-con, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorOmen/pseuds/WarriorOmen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of adventures taking place in the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1076028/chapters/2161090">Blodørn</a> verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. || 795, Skuldelev, Denmark ||

|| 795, Skuldelev, Denmark ||

"Too what purpose have we here upon these lands?" Vilhelm asked, looking from the perch he had upon Håvard’s steed, thin arms linked about it’s neck. He’d grown substantially in the last two summers,but was still quite small.

"Child for as long as the day is you ask this question; and by the hour is shall not change from the last you asked it.’ Håvard gently reminded him from behind. ‘We have been summoned."

"Summoned?" Vilhelm asked. "I know not this word."

"Too be summoned is too be requested to show yourself by a presence that generally has more authority than your own, little one.’ Yens offered. ‘In this case, King Ravn Dark Hair."

Vilhelm frowned, turning to regard Håvard curiously, “What could he wish of us? We’ve done no wrong..I want to go home.”

"Nothing. At least yet." Erik filled in. "We’ll know when we get there."

"How much further is there?"

Erik sighed, rearing his horse forward to garner a little more speed at their side. “You’d best get used to the travel,little Saxon. Your protest only serves to make this all the more difficult.”

"Have a care,Erik." Håvard warned. Erik snorted, tossing a thicket of his braids behind his head.

"That child makes you soft, Håvard. Completely unbecoming of our leader." Riding ahead of them before Håvard could make his protest.

"Soft..?" Vilhelm question. "I mean you no harm, Håvard." Vilhelm whispered, ashamed.

Håvard patted his head, withdrawing his own cloak from his shoulders to wrap it about Vilhelm’s body. ‘Worry not my small one. You cause no concern to me. Now rest,we’ve another fortnight to cross.”

~~

The next moment Vilhelm opened his eyes,they were faced with a stream that stretched to measures Vilhelm had not the capacity to count for.

"Fantastic.’ Leif spat. "I’ll go see how deep it is."

"No!" Vilhelm scrambled, ducking out from under Håvard’s grasping hands. ‘Let me!"

"Come back here, Vilhelm! The stream could be deeper than you are tall!"

He was ignored, Vilhelm moved himself faster,using his small size to dodge between there horses, briefly hearing Håvard shout for Yens to grab him,but pushing himself head first into the stream instead,gasping when water surged around his form and pulled him under.

"Vilhelm!" Håvard shouted and made for the water,thrusting his hands within to grab for him, stepping until his knees were submerged in the depths. Alarmed at how the chill instantly over took his form, creating a thin sheen of ice about his body.

"Vilhelm!" He could not force himself deeper,thrusting his hands out to try and grab for him. His body needed to retain some warmth should he find the child living.

A moment passed, Yens shadowed him and suggested using the horse to balance, but Håvard paid him no mind,hands scaling through the water until they finally latched about on wool and tugged,pulling the suddenly,monstrously heavy Vilhelm free.

"Get me fire! Now!" Yens and Leif dismounted, pulling wood from the sacks about their horses sides and making fire. Crystals covered the thin layer of Vilhelm’s head and hair, and as Håvard pulled him ashore and turned him upon his side, he coughed and let forth in a great gush a surge of darkly coloured water.

"Foolish child!" Håvard scolded, eyes brimming with anger tinged relief. "Why would you do such a thing!?"

Vilhelm coughed again, pushing himself to wobbling hands,releasing a small cry when Håvard tugged his sodden clothes from his body, forcing him beneath the layers of his own tunic, warm against skin. Only his head free from the neck of his clothes.

"Erik..said." Vilhelm gasped. ‘I was a burden. I want not to be useless. I wished to measure the water."

Chills wrecking his small frame, Vilhelm did not bare witness to the fight that occurred following his hasty decision. And when he woke the next day,he gave no question to the dark bruising about Erik’s left eye,nor the strange limp; nor did he question the cuts newly appeared about Håvard’s cheek and arms.

They had crossed the river by horse as he slept; and they found themselves outside the longhouse of King Ravn, and they were greeted warmly,but wearily.

"Please." A thrall greeted. ‘He is waiting."

"Why the false pleasantries?" Leif asked, silenced only by a single glance from Håvard.

"Are we truly enemies?" The thrall asked, although by his face, it was clear he spoke in mockery.

Vilhelm felt a tug about his hand, and when he moved to release himself,embarrassed, Håvard growled at him. “We are in strange lands,and you will stay by my side,small one.”

Vilhelm did not argue the matter further.

King Ravn had about his court many luxuries from raids that far exceeded even the English lands. Metal trinkets and cloths of silk that told Vilhelm that had come from a place he’d never even heard. Seated at a small table in stools, they were face to face with King Ravn. A tall man with hair darker than even his name sake, fur decorated his shoulder’s and his tunic made of the richest,finest fabrics.

"Norse." He greeted,voice so rough Vilhelm shivered,pressing closer to Håvard’s side,pleased when the arm he’d be seeking wrapped about him in reassurance. Paying no care to Ravn’s curious, amused glare. "You have answered my call."

"You left us little choice in the matter." Håvard reminded.

"Perhaps." Ravn agreed. "What business has the child?"

"The child is mine."

"Not of your blood, one would assume. Else you’d have left him at home with his mother. He is too young for journey."

"I am not,good sir!" Vilhelm shrieked. "I am small only in body and I-"

Håvard’s hand came about his face, pressed to his mouth. ‘Silence. Small one.” Ravn raised an eye.

"He is not of my blood,but he is my charge. And one day he shall be chief of my lands; you respect him as you might myself, King Ravn.”

"A chief whom allows himself to be guided by a child of adoption is not a chief I have great faith in. However." He raised a hand,seeing how dangerously close Håvard was to raising his blade to him,and finishing this discourse with blood and with little eloquence. "That is not why I have called you forth."

Håvard lowered himself back down, elbows about the table. The thrall brought forth mead,and he was not surprised by the offering of it to himself and his men.

Vilhelm raised his head to regard the goblet,which had been filled for him, letting out a small huff when Håvard moved to take it from him, dumping half the contents of Vilhelm’s goblet into his own,and returning it without even glancing to him.

"I would ask a favour of you,Norse. There is a clan of your kind in my dwellings. I wish to dispose of them. We have not the means to keep them going; and they would be far happier in a land of their own peoples."

Håvard studied him curiously,dark eyes narrowing, and then contracting. ‘Why can they not handle themselves?”

"They are not warriors. Nor raiders. Not Vikings like yourselves or I. They are merchants. And they cannot be persuaded."

"I see." Håvard considered. ‘And if we refuse?"

King Ravn drew back a gathering of cloth, bringing it to his brow and setting it down once more upon the table. ‘I slaughter them. Consider your options, Norse.”

Vilhelm raised the goblet in both hands, swallowing a bit of the burning liquid and scrunching his face, features twisted like that of a dying man’s,but he made not a sound. Håvard brought a hand to the back of his neck,and squeezed. “Why then have you given us such a task? Why have you not disposed of them already? Do you feel merciful in your advancing age? Would Odin seek too punish you for taking their lives?”

Ravn only smirked, leaning back in his golden chair. “Perhaps. Perhaps I am having a strange moment. Remove of them. You’ll hear nothing further from me.”

"You ask this of us,and yet you expect us to do so freely?"

Ravn brought forth another grin. ‘Of course not. No Viking works without reward. These merchants carry valuables. They will be yours.’

Håvard considered, finishing his mead and bringing down the goblet, a hand about his chest.

"Should you be proven a false man, we will return."

Ravn lifted his head, another strange smirk toying with his mouth. “I would count on nothing less,Norse Man.”

Much to the surprise of Håvard’s clan,the great and strangely beautiful King Ravn had not been a man of false promises or intentions. It was only a few hours of travel that they found themselves upon the merchant community; and exchange of harsh words between Håvard and the so called leader of the little gathering that ended with the threat of great violence should they not obey.

With nothing left to keep them, the merchants gathered their belongings, and were outraged when Håvard commanded that Leif and Erik search them for anything that could be regarded as value of property and money. There was not much,but there was amongst them some golden bracelets and wrought iron pieces, small knives and a dagger of great promise.

"You would steal us from this our home, and then you rob us blind?" One of the merchant women asked, reaching to take back a bracelet Erik had dropped in Vilhelm’s palm.

"These are not your homes, and your goods are our price." Håvard answered simply,drawing Vilhelm behind his body and covering him through his cape. "There is too be no argument there."

And so they drew about the gathering of the villagers, the Norse merchants and made them follow behind their horses, paying only the shortest of visits on their way out to King Ravn,to prove that the job had been done.

As night fell, Vilhelm looked to the gift Erik had unlawfully given,and to the people, pressed warm against Håvard’s chest about the horse.

"Is this what we are, Håvard?" He asked. "Is this our purpose?"

Håvard was silent for a moment, before he made to speak, giving a glance to the darkening sky and a breath of hair above Vilhelm’s head, and then,he answered-

"We small one,are what we make ourselves to be,no more than that. Aye..no more than that.’


	2. || 798, Borg, Norway ||

|| 798, Borg, Norway ||

In the summer of Vilhelm's fifteenth year; there was a small clan visiting them from the Swedish lands. They were a small brand of only three men in number; and they promised that their visitation was not one of malicious intentions.

There was a spirit,said they, that had been tormenting them amongst their travels. They had been told,by the legends of those whom surrounded them in Borg, that was well versed in the spirits and their ilk. She would grant them safe passage, provided they offered her something in return that was befitting of a woman of her gifts. Håvard had gone to retrieve this woman, but for the first time since they had met; told Vilhelm that he was too remain behind, at home.

"Why can I not travel at your side?" Vilhelm had asked,watching with melancholy as Håvard clipped the leather belt to his waist, and polished the long line of his blade. Håvard sighed and crouched, for Vilhelm was not very tall even though he was aging rapidly.

"The lady is far away,and you are still recovering from your last bout of the sick. I need you behind too watch over the clan. I will not be gone long, I promise you this."

"You cannot predict the duration of your travels every moment." Vilhelm sulked. Håvard grasped a hand around the back of his neck,and squeezed,drawing their foreheads together. "I do not trust these men. The Swedes have not been kind to us in the past, I need you to keep watch of the clan that does not travel. Our women,our merchants and our children."

"If you not trust them would I not be safer at your side?"

Håvard gave him a small smile, 'Perhaps. But I need your help. Can you grant me that?"

Vilhelm sighed,but some of his distress had lifted itself from his form. 'Yes. I can grant you that."

Håvard squeezed him again,and moved his hand to pat him gently upon the shoulders. 'Good boy. I will not tarry. I promise you."

Vilhelm offered him a smile,for he should not leave for a journey knowing that there was unease in Vilhelm's form and broke free, leaving behind a lingering warmth about the small space in the longhouse. 

In the days that followed Håvard's departure, Vilhelm kept himself as occupied as he could. Engaging the merchants and women in conversation,tending to the farm animals and making sure that by the time Håvard did see to return, it would be as though he had not been gone in the first place. The heat of the summer was bringing about a density to the air around Norway, and Vilhelm found himself taking to early rest by the time the afternoon sun was high, encouraging the other's to take shade,and water.

On the sixth day since Håvard had departed, Vilhelm found that the air had loosened, and made for easier breathing. He informed the wife of Erik, Hilde, a gentle and fair woman but one whom was not to be crossed,lest they unleash her fury, that he was taking to a short stroll for hunting,and would return before the sun had set.

'See that you do child. We'd not want you to be eaten by the forest spirits, they hunt the lone traveler's you know."

Vilhelm took Hilde's warning most seriously; and promised her that he would return long before they would need to send out any sort of a party.

So he set out, clad only in the finest,lightest brown tunic, breeches and belt. Calfskin shoes tight about his feet; lest he swelter unduly in the summer's sun. A bow about his back, and a short blade about his waist. Vilhelm had not journeyed more than a mile or so, when he came to discover that he was not alone. Thinking that he was being stalked by some great animal,he withdrew the bow and aimed, only to hear a voice call out to him in rough, inaccurate Norse.

"Lower your bow, child. I am no beast."

His voice was heavy,the words strange on his tongue. He was a man of great size and tanned skin. Sun worn, Vilhelm thought, with dark eyes that were not unlike the sea in storm, and long hair the colour of a sheep's wool. 

"Are you one of the Swedes?" Vilhelm ventured, 'Has your party returned?" Eager perhaps,for if that were too be the case,than Håvard must surely be close. The large man chuckled, and spread his arms, coming closer through the tree's to where Vilhelm was, waiting for him to lower the bow.

"A Swede I am,but the party has not yet returned, I assume they are close,but I broke ahead of the line."

Vilhelm frowned, but he lowered the bow all the same. The man did not appear to be armed,which Vilhelm found most strange. A chill broke across his body,stranger still for summertime. Especially with the sun still high in the sky.

Unless the chill had nothing to do with the weather.

"What is your countenance?" Vilhelm finally asked, stepping back when the man moved forward, eyes wide with weary suspicion.

"They have called me Asbjörn the Blunt, young one. And yourself?"

Vilhelm was not sure one should take any named 'the Blunt' with any sort of kindness,but surely he could not be rude. "Vilhelm" he answered, looking to the ground. The man chuckled, and it was a dirty noise.

"Vilhelm. An interesting name for a Norse child,and where is your Master, your father?"

Vilhelm swallowed,eying the tree's for some manner of escaping. 'Long since passed. I am Master to myself."

"Really now?" Asbjörn, making another step forward, in Vilhelm's space so suddenly, Vilhelm discovered himself eye level with breast at such a speed it was as though he'd barely been made to blink. "There is not a _single_ one to whom you belong?" His smile was like that of a sea serpents, Vilhelm thought,and he was most alarmed. 'No..no there is non."

Asbjörn grinned, and Vilhelm was quite frightened, recoiling against the bark of a thick tree when a finger the girth of a small daggers hilt came to move down his chest,and he jerked further still,but found there was not a place where he could free himself. 'I say unhand me!"

His plea was ignored,and only seemed to spur Asbjörn further in his loathesome quest. 'You have the face of a lady, how old might you be? The 12th? 13th perhaps?" His lips vile against Vilhelm's neck.

"The 15th!" Vilhelm spat, 'Now let me loose!"

"15th!" Asbjörn let out a snort like that of a boar. 'Girls your age are married with families by now, plenty old enough, would you not say?"

"I would not say!" Vilhelm gasped, squirming from the hand that gripped his waist, almost larger than his own hip when it molded there. 'And you will unhand me!"

"Your spite is most pretty, Vilhelm." Asbjörn taunted, "And your tongue worthy of cutting off and saving."

"Is that supposed to tame me!? If so you fail,good Sir!"

"Tame? Hardly. What is tame does not have the same energy,nor the same enjoyment." His hands continued to roam, but by now Vilhelm had denied their path so highly that he did not pay them heed,forgetting the places they touched. 

"Is this how you choose to pay those that have taken the time to help you?" Vilhelm spat,beating at his broad chest with a fist not yet a size suitable for doing so. Asbjörn gripped his hair,and drew his head back against the tree. 'Help we are paying for out of our own pocket. Your clan leader is charging us undully for this service. I feel I should get what all I pay for,hmm?"

Vilhelm snarled up at him. 'I am armed. Let me loose. I'll not warn you again, Asbjörn the Blunt!"

The only earned him a thick,oily laugh, Vilhelm moved a hand to grip his blade. 'I doubt you've the capacity to wield that, else they'd not have left you behind."

"Your doubts serve to prove you wrong,then!" Vilhelm shrieked, and without another moment, the blade,sharp and bold, was unsheathed,and he drew it forward to bury deep in the Swede's bowels, dragging it to the side and watching as his innards spilled to the forest grounds. Asbjörn let out an agonized sort of noise,and lunged for Vilhelm,but he used both feet to push him backwards, made him land on his back, blood flowing speedily from his body. Vilhelm loosened the blade and drew it forth with a loud scream,driving it forward into the Swedes chest,the second strike proved fatal,and Asbjörn the Blunt lay dead upon the Borg forest.

Vilhelm's clothes had become stained with the man's death, his blood thick about his countenance,and he staggered from the forest, using a hand to grab the neckline of the man's tunic,and drag him out. It was a difficult task, but he managed all the same. 

As he was appearing from the mouth of the forest, Håvard was riding up into their clan, but when he took sight of Vilhelm-even from a distance,he dismounted instantly and ran to him, the two Swede's that trailed looking nervously between each other.

Håvard gathered Vilhelm too him even before he could utter a greeting,of either relief or sorrow Vilhelm did not know,and he gasped out the story against his chest,muffled by the tunic and broadness. Håvard's hands cradled him,and made him unhand the body of Asbjörn, breaking free to grip it himself,beheading him with a single stroke of his sword and tossing the body to the first Swede, the head,the second.

"We offer you assistance,and this is how your people seek to repay us!? By taking it upon themselves to violate our people!" The Swede holding the head made to protest,but Håvard roared in his face, and forced his blade to his throat. "Speak not! Be gone from our land this moment, or I shall strike you both down and feed you not just to the wolves,but the spirits themselves! And leave behind all but the clothes on your backs! Your valuables are ours now, consider it penance for what your ilk have done!"

They wanted to fight,the Swedes, but Håvard and his clansmen gathered viciously about them,and so they left behind all their gold and their bronze, and fled from Borg before Håvard had a chance to make good on his promise.

When they departed, Håvard banished all from his sight, and took Vilhelm's hand in his own,dragging him back to the same forest. By now it was getting dark, and Vilhelm fought him stubbornly until Håvard assured him that he only wanted to talk.

"Are you hurt, small one?" He asked, keeping his hands at his sides, lest he startle him further. Vilhelm crossed his arms about his body,and shook his head. 'I am not." His voice trembled,and came out weak. "I suppose I am but a man now. I've made that passage. As we all must do."

Håvard drew his own hands to his face,where the beard lay thick about his chin,and dragged his fingers down it, weary. 'I had not wanted your passage to manhood to come like this." He answered,finally.

"Nor did I." Vilhelm said, quietly. 'But..I suppose we cannot fix it now,can we?" Aware then,with some horror,that he was crying. 

"Perhaps not." Håvard agreed, extending his arm. 'Come. It is alright."

Vilhelm went, letting Håvard pick up his bloodied sword,and held him until warm and close in his chest until his tears had ceased and trembled subsided,and brought him back to the longhouse. The Swedes did not dare to enter Borg for many summers following. And Vilhelm from then on went on all the travels they ventured on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones a bit of a drabble, and I'm hoping for some other fics too be from Håvard's point of view. Don't worry, I've got a few more of these planned ;).
> 
> I have altered my writing style, giving it a more direct narration like feel that was common in the saga's of the time period. If this is something you guys aren't fond of, I'll switch back to the one I used in the first of the series. :-)
> 
> Apologies to Sweden. Really, I love you guys! I promise!


	3. || 800, Borg, Norway ||

|| 800, Borg,Norway ||

The coming of the winter’s snow had never been anything to which Vilhelm looked all that forward. Ice seeping beneath one’s clothes; as though it were blown by the breath of Thor himself brought great discomfort and a chill that could barely be fended off at the best of times.

Although from the way Håvard had been looking as of late; when the fire was high and the smoke thick to canvas across the faces of their comrades; he ventured that he’d need only ask before the other replaced the chill through his bones with something far more delightful and indeed; all the warmer.

Vilhelm shivered beneath the wool; looking to the sky and casting his eyes for the stars, trying to find his way before he settled for the night. Twas little of matter; honestly. Wind carrying the thickening knot of dark, bark coloured hair and blowing it about a face that was dropping in smoothness and clouding over with fine hair and darkening features.

_"Really." Erik had smirked, shoving a particularly foul mood Håvard "Your little Saxon finds he’s not so little no more; hmm?"_

_Håvard had snarled and shoved Erik almost to the fire, leaving them all in a quiet,uncomfortable silence. Returning only to throw Vilhelm his bow and point aggressively for the gathering of tree’ s facing West._

_"Håvard.." Vilhelm had protested,confused. Having only just warmed himself, "What are you-"_

_"Be gone! Child." Ignoring how Vilhelm twitched in irritation. ‘The cycle’s come it is your turn to hunt."_

_"I was under the impression that I were to leave by morn?"_

_"Impressions can be changed." Håvard snapped. ‘Be about your care; Vilhelm!"_

_Erik was snickering,amused. Håvard pushed his boot sole to the back of his neck. ‘And cease with your scandalous sputtering!”_

_Vilhelm had arose, crossing over the fire and purposefully bringing his shoulder to Håvard’s, pushing his chief to the thicket of trees._

_"I am not a child, no more." Vilhelm growled._

_Håvard simply looked though the fringe of his messed hair, and spun about on his heel. Refusing both acknowledgment and answering._

Vilhelm sighed in unhappy reverence of the night’s past memory, wrapping stiffening finger’s about the bow’s wood and crouching low amongst the gathering of timber. There would be nothing to find in the dark, and he would need to find a place to camp.

"Really.." Vilhelm told no one. "I would be accepting of that embrace, were he brave enough to give it.’ But defying the Gods and the right’s of what they knew to be their path was a tricky one; and Vilhelm knew with a sort of dull, thick clarity that Håvard would rather not bring about such risks; nor face the wrath of the Gods.

Yet. He’d not once moved to take a bride, not in the seven summers since Vilhelm had been here. The men were starting to talk, and Håvard eternally dismissive, claiming war and hunting held his heart.

_"Hunting may have a clasp about your heart; but hunting will not bring us a future Chief.’ Leif had gently reminded. Håvard had looked away. Duty was no strange concept to him; but he was never one to be swayed,either._

That same stubbornness was of course; what had saved Vilhelm’s life.

A sudden snapping of branches brought Vilhelm to his feet,the bow and arrow tight in hand as he rose it to the slowly moving thicket, coming closer and closer to Vilhelm’s territory. The creature was massive, a sort of animal to which Vilhelm had never laid his eyes; a mane of great black feather’s that molded into the ink of the night;taking away it’s shape and leaving only what might have been a large,unshapen mass.

Hooves of the darkest ebony molded to the cold ground, pawed at thick hardened over soil,and brought it’s large head to the forefront where it gave Vilhelm an almost intelligent glance from gleaming round eyes.

Excited by the sheer feast that such a creature would bring, Vilhelm brought out his bow, drew back the arrow and fired straight for the creature’s neck, hoping for it to take only two or three of them to bring it down.

But when the beast did no more but give it’s large,feathered mane a shake, Vilhelm readied another bow; and struck again. Eyes widening in fear as the bow did little more but phase through the mass, and land silently to what remained of the green.

Perhaps the Gods were mocking him; that could be the only explanation for such a creature, who turned it’s heavy head and began to trod forward to Vilhelm, the ground shook beneath it’s weight and the smaller of them brought down his hand, releasing the bow and bringing forth his short blade, sharpness pointed outwards.

"Stay back. I am armed and in need of food for the men." Vilhelm commanded. ‘I ask for no quarrel creature of the night, do not force my hand."

It’s snout seemed to regard Vilhelm with amusement, pushing against the dark wool of his winter outer tunic, forcing him against the tree’s bark and bringing forth a set of antler’s that climbed towards the sky; almost glowing even in the darkness.

Shocked, Vilhelm reared his own head and forced the blade again, only to have it pas and come through the other side, touching only his own hand just shy of scraping and opening the flesh to a wound.

"What do you want..?" Vilhelm asked, aware now that fighting the great beast would gain him nothing. He could feel the intake of almost musky breath stirring his hair; and the physical weight of it pushing his chest until his ribs compressed, but still, he could not lay a hand too it.

The antler’s grazed against the exposure of his neck, leaving impressions in his skin. Vilhelm shivered inspite of himself, feeling it clasped between the sharp and the furred.

A moment passed, a snort stirred his hair before he was released, and Vilhelm dropped to the ground, shocked by the cold of it against his newly warmed skin. A hoove came to his arm and Vilhelm swallowed, understanding without really aware of what he was understanding of.

When he returned to the clan the next morn,his kill about his shoulders, he glanced to the amulet of dark bone he’d always seen Håvard wearing, still there about his chest and tunic.

"Håvard" he asked, pleased when the chief at least regarded him warmly. ‘What is that amulet you bear?"

"A circlet, crafted from the antler’s of my first kill. A stag."

Vilhelm stared at him until Håvard clasped his stunned shoulder,and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> The Blodørn series absolutely did not want to leave me alone. So I'm writing several mini fics that take place in that verse. This is the first of them. 
> 
> These are being published on tumblr,non-chronologically. I am changing that on here. The fics on AO3 will all be written in Chronological order.
> 
> I've taken SOME liberties with this one, I don't think Skuldelev was in much use at this time period but..*whispers* I really really liked the name.
> 
> A thrall is a Viking servant or slave.
> 
> And finally,Vikings did not refer to themselves as Vikings,but I was having language issues. Forgive me. Vikings DID however go on missions-if the price was right ;)


End file.
